


For Your Entertainment

by canadianwheatpirates



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Interrupted Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:34:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18363341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadianwheatpirates/pseuds/canadianwheatpirates
Summary: "The private balcony is a quiet corner, hidden away from the musk and glitter. Even though he knows the floor is closed off, the openness is enough to send a thrill through John as he kneels in front of Harold; he’s always been turned on by the risk of discovery."Harold and John have a (not so) private moment.





	For Your Entertainment

**Author's Note:**

> This fic brought to you by the Cards Against Humanity card "Harold Peacock, gay strip club owner", title shamelessly nicked from the Adam Lambert song because I listened to far too much 2011 pop music while writing this.

Bass-heavy pop music thumps through the club and the dance floor surges below them. The private balcony is a quiet corner, hidden away from the musk and glitter. Even though he knows the floor is closed off, the openness is enough to send a thrill through John as he kneels in front of Harold; he’s always been turned on by the risk of discovery. 

He licks up the shaft of Harold’s cock until he reaches the head, then gently sucks on it. Slowly, he slides more cock into his mouth until he’s almost full to the back of his throat, swallows, and pulls back. His dick is hard enough to make his pants uncomfortably tight around it. He considers jerking off while he sucks, but decides it’d be a distraction. Ignoring it for now, he sets a teasingly slow pace; Harold groans as he wraps a hand around his shaft, stroking in time with the bob of his head.

“Mr Peacock, you asked me to inform you when — oh God.” The waiter stops and takes a couple of steps backwards. “I’m sorry, I can come back later.”

Harold rests a hand on his head and he stills. He can’t grin with his mouth full so he settles for running his tongue along the underside of Harold’s cock, teasing him for getting caught.

“Don’t worry,” Harold says to the waiter, totally unfazed. “We’ll be there in a few minutes — please make sure our guest is comfortable.”

“Of — of course,” he stammers, and rushes off. 

John pulls Harold’s cock out of his mouth and strokes it, smirking. “Think you might have traumatised him.”

Harold sighs, relaxing back into the seat. “Employees are warned. He’ll get a raise.”

John hums agreement and swallows him down again. Harold’s hand stays on his head, fingers lightly gripping his hair. He sets a quick pace, all business now; above him, Harold’s breathing quickens. The head of Harold’s cock rubs against the roof of his mouth and he licks the underside, sucking harder. Harold gasps and John pushes himself further down, taking as much of his dick as he can. 

A groan is all the warning he gets before come spills into his mouth, Harold’s cock pulsing with his orgasm. He strokes him through it, swallowing each spurt eagerly; his dick strains against his pants, now achingly hard over the feeling of Harold coming down his throat.  Harold shivers when he’s finished, and John carefully sucks one last drop out of the tip of his cock before pulling his mouth off it.

Tucking it away, Harold says, “I’m sorry, I thought we had more time.”  

John shrugs. “I was gonna get myself off anyway.” He sits down next to Harold and undoes his pants, finally freeing his cock — and not missing the admiring look Harold gives it. He starts to stroke himself and sighs with relief. 

Harold leans over. “One day I might bend you over that balcony,” he murmurs. “Make you hope that nobody looked up.”

John groans, his strokes speeding up. He was already close after sucking Harold off, but the thought of being fucked over the balcony in plain sight is enough to push him over the edge. He bucks up into his hand, panting; Harold passes him a handkerchief and he holds it against the head of his cock. His body tenses as he comes, the anticipation and arousal spilling out of him with a long moan. He spurts into the handkerchief long and hard, like when he’d furtively jerked off into a sock in the army barracks, secretly wishing someone would stumble in on him, except this time he doesn’t have to hope to be watched. Harold makes an appreciative noise at the the sight of his orgasm, and he smirks as he wipes himself clean.

“At least I put on a show for you,” he says, handing the handkerchief back and doing up his pants, “even though you pay the strippers to do that.”

Harold folds up the fabric and pockets it. “I don’t pay them to put on a show for  _ me _ ,” he replies as he stands. John follows him, glancing aside to hide his smile. “Now, shall we go meet our guest?”

John laughs. “We’ve probably left him waiting long enough.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
